


Like a crisp packet

by prussium



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred F. Jones the hormonal teenager, Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magical Strike AU, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Romance, Shameless Smut, an appreciation of Arthur Kirkland's anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prussium/pseuds/prussium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His unhealthy obsession began during last year’s Halloween party when he, the Company President’s son, met the delectable Mr. Salaryman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a crisp packet

**Author's Note:**

> I was half asleep while writing this, so don’t take this seriously. :P

The tide recedes as the late afternoon sun drifts westwards. Sea breeze enters Arthur’s apartment through the cracked-open window. The cat purrs – he’s been rolling around the porch for ages like he wants to mate. From the couch, Alfred watches Arthur inhale the scent of brine, a reminder of his childhood home by the North Sea.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go clubbing tonight?” He asks Alfred.

‘Netflix and chill’ was what Alfred answered when Arthur asked what he wants to do for tonight. Although skeptical at first (he’s been tasked to keep the President’s son busy while he’s in the city), Arthur drove Alfred F. Jones to his apartment upon his request.

“It’s no good.” Alfred keeps his eyes on the Englishman who takes off his black gloves using his teeth. How delectable. The tightness between Alfred’s legs throbs; he swallows.

“Oh right.” Arthur joins him on the couch. About time. “You must be bored of your Ivy League parties by now.”

“It’s not that.” His low voice resonates in Arthur’s ear. “It’s because I’d have to shoot every man, woman, and nonbinary who talks, touches, or tries any sort of contact with you.” He kisses Arthur’s chin, jaw, and neck. “So to spare this country from another crime of passion and to keep my father’s reputation clean, I suggest we spend the night alone. Here.”

Arthur lets out a shaky laugh. “God knows what you see in me.”

“Oh, he does alright.” Without breaking eye contact, Alfred deliberately licks the empty packet of Cheetos.

Arthur must see this coming from the start of their liaison last year. It was at the company’s Halloween party when he caught the eye of Alfred F. Jones, the President’s son. To liven up the party, the guests formed teams and prepared skits – it was quite surprising how grownups loved role playing. Alfred was the villain. His goth fur-lined coat, purple bangs, and the star on his cheek all made his entrance inevitably dramatic, but it was all cool because he loved to act. Two more of Arthur’s colleagues joined their group: Francis, as Magical Strike (a pink fairy-like creature demanding higher wages), and Kiku, the Grandpa (a.k.a. the poor tourist caught up in the riots). Lastly, Arthur was Mr. Salaryman, dubbed by his Japanese colleague, referring to white-collar workers in his country. When everyone was busy having dinner, the villain sneaked into the comfort room with Mr. Salaryman and the rest was history.

Their relationship is something intimate and secret, which makes it more thrilling.

Alfred takes Arthur’s hand from his lap. Slowly, he fills it with kisses, and puts the long and thin fingers in his mouth. He savors the taste he’s been longing to take in his mouth while he thinks about how he’ll make up for the months living without it. He likes trying different things and taking it slow with Arthur. He remembers the first time he explored Arthur on this couch, the way he sat across Alfred’s lap with his legs wide open, and oh, how he felt _wonderful_. His eyes stray upon the wall opposite where he fucked Arthur senselessly last time —

His thoughts dispel like a flock of birds as Arthur smashes his open mouth against his. He returns the kiss with the same fervent force, wrapping his head around how his daydreams are turning into reality. For months, he’s been dreaming about what to do with Arthur once he gets back – how his lips will touch every inch of his skin, how he will make him scream with pleasure, and how they will fuck until they can hardly walk.

“Missed me?” Alfred pulls away and smiles, brushing his knuckles against Arthur’s high cheekbones. God, he can cut himself caressing them.

“No, I didn’t,” says Arthur. What a tease. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and hooks his legs around Alfred’s until they’re a steamy, tangled mess.

Alfred pokes his knee against the stiffening bulge in Arthur’s pants. “How about now?”

Arthur returns the favor by sinking his teeth on his lover’s neck. He knows how much Alfred loves affectionate bites. Smiling, he laces their fingers together and says, “My bed missed you.”

Unwilling to break their contact, they stand up with their lips linked. Alfred grips Arthur’s hips hard and kisses him until they share spit and short, hot breaths. He rubs his crotch against Arthur’s hip and whispers against his ear. “Pull me out.”

Arthur fumbles with his belt and unzips him while he continues pleasing Alfred with his mouth. Then, he fills his palm with Alfred’s manhood and gives it a firm squeeze.

A soft moan escapes from Alfred’s mouth. “Oh, that feels good.”

While Arthur pumps him, Alfred removes his lover’s glasses. Arthur looks perfect in corporate clothes. He loves how his arm muscles flex when the sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to the elbows, how his slacks seamlessly outline those long legs, and how his glasses give him the image of an intellectual. Looking at him is enough to make Alfred hard.

However, despite all of these wonders, taking his clothes off is a more exhilarating experience. Alfred indulges in undressing him – he takes his time like unwrapping a delicate present, always starting from his button-down shirt, to his trousers, and finishing with his underwear. Alfred presses his lips on Arthur’s skin until he’s kneeling down. His face finds the clothed erection between his legs, kisses it – he hears Arthur’s breath hitch – and wraps his mouth around it, as if saying _mine, mine, mine_.  

Alfred lets go – this is only a preview – and drags his tongue up to Arthur’s face. They kiss heavily once again. They hold each other captive in their lips and let their hands explore each other’s flesh until they reach the bedroom.

Arthur reaches between them and rubs their cocks together, tugging and slicking them with the precum flowing from the tip. “I’ll be sacked once the Company President learns I’m fucking his son.”

“Language, Arthur,” says Alfred with a dark gleam in his eyes. He gets upset when people curse in front of him, especially Arthur.

He pushes Arthur against the mattress. His bed is hardly for two people, but that’s another reason to press their bodies together. He notices the change of covers. Last time was pure white; now is pinstripe, like his blazer.

Alfred pulls away to relish his view. Arthur is splayed on the bed underneath him, bare and open. His eyes probe Arthur’s naked body bathed in the afternoon light with his arms above his head, like a divine offering. _Take my body, Alfred. This is all yours._ His wild blond hair, guarded forest-green eyes, plump lips, cinnamon-colored freckles dusting his pale skin… Alfred regards him like an artwork made for his eyes only, and he can’t help but imagine all the dirty things he can do to it. The sky’s the limit. Since Arthur granted him an open access to his body, Alfred loathed the times when he had to take matters in his own hands, just to cope up while he’s away.   

Licking his lips, Alfred imagines parting those legs wide open and wrapping them tightly around his waist. He drags his fingers along the length of his legs and reminds himself how Arthur sexy looked in short shorts. The hair has grown back since the last time he shaved it; its fluffiness brushes against his fingertips. He pries Arthur’s thighs apart and eases his body between them, smiling as he sees his cock twitch.

“Alfred…” Arthurgrinds against him in a gradual motion while he slips his hands inside the back of his pants to scoop his ass. Alfred remembers he still has his clothes on and wrestles to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He kisses Arthur all over the face and curls his fists around his unruly hair.

Alfred’s thoughts lure him away to the imaginary day he meets Arthur’s parents and saying, _it’s such an honor to finally meet you, Mr. & Mrs. Kirkland. I’m a big fan of your work! _He doesn’t realize breaking off from the kiss until he erupts with a giggle fit.

Underneath him, Arthur stops dead and stares at him with a puzzled look, his bold eyebrows knit together. “Alfred,” he says. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Now, he’s put a frown on Arthur’s face.

“I… I was just thinking how I ended up in bed with such a beautiful creature like you,” he says.

Arthur is not amused at all. Then, he recalls Arthur telling him how he often gets conscious about his body and it worries him for several reasons.

“No, please.” He grabs his thighs to hold him still. “That was messed up. I’m sorry. What I mean to say is – is I love being in bed with you. Let me show you. Please.” He keeps his eyes on Arthur’s face for a second, just in case he objects. Consent is important between them after all.

Arthur lets himself fall back to the mattress, and Alfred fastens his leg between his thighs. The younger man runs his hands all over his partner’s skin, wanting to feel every inch of his body, wanting to know it more than his own.  

An overwhelming desire fills his senses. He wants to be the sheets underneath him, the sunlight bathing him, and the air that enters his lungs… He wants to be Arthur’s everything.

“How will you please me this time, Mr. Jones?” Playing the big flirt, Arthur lets his fingers creep down Alfred’s back and fondles his ass. He likes toying with it, saying it’s Alfred’s greatest asset aside from his dick.

For a second, Alfred struggles finding his voice. Never does the sound of his own name make his throat clench and his cock throb. He reaches for the bottle of flavored body oil and waves it on Arthur’s face. “I want to try this.”

Arthur’s fingertips brush over his bottom lip, sending static throughout his body. “Have it your way.”

Starting from his chest, Alfred spreads the flavored body oil with his tongue and lets the taste melt in his mouth. Oranges blend well with Arthur’s skin, he figures while leaving a wet trail across Arthur’s torso. He extracts the anticipated moaning as his tongue finds the nipples. Arthur arches his back in pleasure, pressing his cock against the hard muscles of Alfred’s abdomen.A new wave of excitement washes over Alfred while thinking about the reactions he can draw out from exploring his entire body.

Alfred feels pride swell in his chest. Arthur seems to enjoy how he reacquaints with his body this time. During their second time together, Alfred mapped every freckle and every scar in his body. He still has his piercings from his punk phase, but he doesn’t put the metalwork on anymore for the sake of professionalism. Alfred will give anything to see his punk side, though. It must feel hot having his dick grazed by Arthur’s tongue ring while sucking him.  

His prolonged sighs are music to Alfred’s ears. He basks in Arthur’s sensitivity – even the slightest touch of his fingertips makes him shiver and his muscles ripple. Once, he tried blindfolding Arthur and his reactions drove Alfred’s mind off the rails.

Alfred’s tongue strays up the backside of his legs until it finds the puckered entrance. Digging his fingers against the smooth skin of Arthur’s behind, he teases it as he slips inside and elicits louder arousing noises from the back of Arthur’s throat. He clings perfectly against his tongue, and his taste makes Alfred crave for more, more, more. 

“Ah, Alfred, Alfred…” Arthur says in a needy voice, his legs tensing. He reaches for him. “I want you, too.” 

The look in those green eyes is lustful and wanting, which makes Alfred suddenly seem unsure of himself all of a sudden. He hesitates for a moment and eases his lower half under Arthur’s upper body while Arthur bends in front of his face, letting him continue where he left off.

The citrus smell fills the room again as Arthur spreads the oil on Alfred’s skin with his tongue. The warm wetness explore Alfred’s groin, playing with the underside of his cock and teasing the area between the slits. His legs stiffen with the feeling of Arthur’s fingers around his balls, the devil, and his entire body jolts when Arthur’s throat muscles finally closes around him. He finds it hard to concentrate on his own task as Arthur meddles with his left-side brain, but he performs and does his best to let Arthur have his fill.

He closes his eyes and tells himself, yes this is it, this is what he’s been looking forward to all along. He’s inside Arthur once more, and tonight, Arthur is only his. They continue as they pick up the pace, their breathing coming out in short, ragged puffs until Arthur is throat-deep into his manhood and Alfred’s tongue reaches its limit inside Arthur.

The feeling of release swells in his groin, and his heartbeat gets quicker by the second. He pulls out of Arthur and holds on to him as he screams with pleasure, spraying his seed inside Arthur’s mouth.

He waits for the pulses of orgasm to fade until he flips Arthur on his back and help him finish. His fingers rub the tip of his hard and dripping cock before closing around it and moving tenderly.

While Alfred strokes him, Arthur watches his face through heavy-lidded eyes. “Alfred…”

Arthur’s toes curl against the sheets as he covers his mouth to stifle his moaning, but Alfred takes it away to admire his flushed face. He’ll finish any second now – Alfred knows as he bucks his hips and kicks his legs, and he keeps pumping until Arthur’s face scrunches up as if in agony, and his strangled cries fill the room. He keeps pumping to make sure he gets out every squirt of cum. He takes the tip in his mouth to savor every drop, and waits for the pulses to waver, and for Arthur’s body to relax. Alfred lets his head fall and he kisses the inside of his thighs with weary contentment. Arthur hums in satisfaction, closing his eyes while he strokes Alfred’s hair.

He sifts through the smells, the mixture of citrus, sweat, and cum. As he wraps his arms around Arthur’s body and rests his head on his stomach, Arthur asks him, “Did I do a good job at keeping you busy tonight, Mr. Jones?”

Alfred finds it challenging to hide his smile and presses his nose on Arthur’s skin. “You did relatively brilliant tonight, Mr. Kirkland. Commendable.”

“Relatively brilliant?” Arthur playfully tugs at the cowlick sticking from his forehead. “What a knob.”

Thinking of a good comeback, Alfred loses his thoughts to his surroundings. The afternoon light paints the sky lilac, and the ocean waves match the tide of their breathing. He’s at home in Arthur’s bed, on his wrinkled sheets, in his arms, like what it’s supposed to be. Together, they give in to sleep.

===

“You know, I’ve never shared a bathtub before,” Alfred says as he begins scrubbing Arthur’s forearm. “In fact, I hardly shared anything with anyone.”

“Is that true?” asks Arthur. “I grew up sharing everything with my brothers. I have three older brothers, and I can count the things we didn’t share in my two hands.”

Alfred shifts a fraction and watches the thin sheet of bubbles he leaves on Arthur’s skin. “I only have one brother – a twin. He moved to Canada with our mom when we were nine, so I pretty much had everything to myself.”

It’s a small tub, and just like the bed, it’s hardly for two people. But at that moment, it seems more spacious.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Arthur tells the window. “I mean, about not having to share with your brother. I mean — god, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Silence breaks as his cat purrs outside.

“Believe it or not, I love sharing with you.”

Arthur searches his face for signs of sarcasm. “Flattery,” he says and leans close until their foreheads are touching, “will get you everywhere, Mr. Jones.”

He wishes he can stay this way forever, where Arthur’s eyes are all he can see, and Arthur’s skin is all he can feel. He hasn’t shared this kind of intimacy either, and the thought of Arthur hearing his heart beat for him scares Alfred a little. After all, he believes it’s the first and the last time he’ll meet someone like Arthur, and he doesn’t want to lose him.   

“I love you, Arthur.”

“I love you too, Alfred.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alt-J’s like my most favorite band of all time and I hereby declare their song ‘Every Other Freckle’ as The Ultimate Lustful OTP Anthem, which inspired this sinful writing ofc.


End file.
